[Ranma][FanFic] Biker 1/2 book 2 chapter 7
Doghead Thirteen
You know what? Cabbage!
Previous chapters of this monstrosity (including the entirety of book 1)
can be found in several places - the TASS/RAAC archives (for some reason
their bots didn't put book 2 in the Biker 1/2 folder) fanfiction.net and
Studio Asynjor (a.k.a http://www.asynjor.com/fanfic/index.html) which
for now can be counted as the official Biker 1/2 webpage until I finally
manage to get something more personalised written. Don't get onto me as
to what the heck everything's arranged like on the above sites - the
only involvement I have in them is A) guy who posts stuff on RAAC and B)
satisfied user.
I'd advise first-time readers of Biker 1/2 to go to one of the above
sites and read book 1 since I sincerely doubt you'd be able to work out
what the heck's going on if you didn't; this is the second of a series
of 100,000+ word books.
Words in "{this}" kind of brackets are spoken in Cantonese. Those in
"[this]" are in wolf-speak.
Biker 1/2 Cycle 1 - Birth of a Modern Legend, book 2: Severed.
Chapter 7: The Dance Macabre
"Where do we go, where do we go now? Where do we go, sweet child o'
mine" - Guns 'N' Roses, 'Sweet Child O' Mine'
"Oh, that episode... Let's just say me and Spike didn't get off on the
right foot." - Willow Andrayov, interview for Channel 9 News.
"She still likes underexaggerating." - Terrence 'Spike' Armstrong, same
interview.
***********************************
It is a strange fact that the more someone thinks they want something,
the more likely the exact opposite is to be true; Ranma, Soun, Herb,
Spike and Angelus, for example, were under the impression that they were
about to get a tooled-up Buffy Summers gunning for them, therefore they
had to everything physically possible not to be found, when in actual
fact the best thing they could have done under the circumstances was for
Ranma and Soun to go storming down the strip in battle form. The
Amazons, on the other hand, weren't looking for Ranma because they
wanted to find him. They were looking for Ranma because one of their
main unspoken rules is that an Amazon looks after his or her spouse, and
if someone or something gets between an Amazon and his or her spouse
every Amazon within reach does their damnedest to help. They were
looking for Ranma because that's just one of the things Amazons do.
Rally Vincent and her friends were looking for Ranma because he was
their Lord, and looking out for their Lord is just something
self-respecting Amerai do; it's a mindset thing. Nabiki, Shampoo and
Akane were looking for Ranma because they loved him and they were his
pack; it's a natural reflex. The Black Eagles were looking for Ranma
because the CIA had told them to, and doing what the CIA said was their
job. The CIA were looking for Ranma because the President told them to,
and when the President of the United States of America speaks, American
government agents listen. The President was looking for Ranma because he
was scared of supernaturals; fearing the unknown (especially the unknown
part of the partly-known) is an essential component of the President of
the United States' job description. Everyone else was looking for Ranma
either because they were trying to help their friends or because he had
pissed them off.
Some people just attract trouble. Ranma Saotome was one of them.
***********************************
"So how's it look?"
"Twenty or so 5.56 cases, about the same number of AK rounds, a couple
7.62 NATO and seven .44 Magnum. Fair bit of blood, both inside and
outside. All three external doors and the coal hatch smashed, as is the
door between the ground floor and the basement. There's a hole straight
through from the middle of the basement on up, and a whole chunk of
floor has been shot away. I've got photos - let's get out of here before
the fuzz show."
Rally nodded and threw the Ford into gear.
"Yeah. We don't need the cops getting involved in this."
***********************************
"Okay."
Spike turned round; he smiled his usual slightly unpleasant smile at
Willow as she moped back into the room.
Ranma straightened up from the Playstation.
"Okay what?"
Willow gestured expansively. "I used what they call a SEP spell. Someone
Else's Problem. Anyone looking for anything round here will skim
straight over this house. Well, that's unless they're expecting an SEP
spell."
Spike snorted.
"You've been reading too much Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy. What
about scrying? What about scent tracking?"
"Covered and covered. Anyone trying to scry on the plot will get a view
of an identical building three blocks down and two streets across.
Anyone trying to track a scent onto this property will lose it about
five blocks away."
"Visual tracking?"
Willow shrugged. "I can't do much about that... well, apart from these."
She opened her hand, revealing six plain copper rings. "Invisibility
rings. The spell will only last about two hours of use, so only use 'em
if you think you're being tailed and leave it as late as possible. There
isn't anything I can do with your car, so keep it parked a bit away from
the house. There's no surveillance cameras within half a mile and this
is a quiet neighbourhood, so it should be fairly easy to spot tails. But
then, I'm a witch not a miracle-worker."
Spike nodded. "Good girl. Come with me."
He got up and headed towards the basement door.
"Um..." Willow asked. "What-"
"Shut it." Spike grabbed her by the hair and frogmarched her into the
basement. Having locked her into the steel mesh dog cage therein he went
back upstairs.
Ranma looked up from the half-assembled dirt bike.
"Where is she?"
"In the cage."
"Ya fuckin-"
"Shut it, Saotome. In case you've forgotten that means she's in the
safest part of the house - my personal bedroom. Anyway, this is my turf
so I make the rules around here. I don't like her but she looks useful
to me. So as long as she behaves she'll stay healthy."
Ranma groaned.
"Ya just get worse, leechie-boy."
"And you still stink, muttley dawg."
One of Spike's pals - a local vampire called Dirk Eastwood - banged the
door open and slouched in; he deposited himself and his meal for the
night (a local wannabe Goth) on one of the couches Ranma hadn't covered
in bike parts, took a quick bite and nodded at Ranma.
"Hey, Saotome - onea my blood doners tells me there's a buncha people
round town lookin' for ya."
Ranma snorted and continued bolting the engine together. "That ain't
news."
"Yeah well, she said them were Nips."
Ranma stood up and cracked his knuckles. "Ya said?"
"Shit, chill out man, slip o' the tongue. Japanese."
Ranma went back to his engine. "Any idea who th' fuck they are?"
"Nah. They linked up with that Vincent woman, so she said."
"Ya mean th' hot-roddin' werecat bounty hunter?"
"Yeah, that one. Say, she's been stewin' up a helluva noise - she's got
pals all round town lookin' for ya. Supernat kinda pals."
Spike narrowed his eyes. "That don't fit her MO. She's a real small-team
type, likes to keep it personal. I've never heard of her ganging up with
*all* her pals at one go before."
"Shit, how th' hell did I piss th' gun-maniac off that bad?"
"Beats me, Saotome. Maybe she had the hots for one of those pigs you
waxed?"
Ranma smirked suddenly. "I gotten an idea. Ya gotten a camcorder,
Spike?"
"Yup."
"Mind if I borrow it an' Willow?"
"Sure."
Spike tossed Ranma the keys to the cage; Ranma headed downstairs as
Spike started digging out his camcorder.
He found Willow fast asleep; the six-hour ritual magic spree she'd just
gone on had taken the last of her energy reserves. He snorted and went
back to his bike.
***********************************
"Okay. Whatever."
Rally looked up from her copy of 'Soldier of Fortune'. "Huh?"
Fire and Nabiki were glaring into Nabiki's leftover soup; there were a
bunch of varied candles arranged round the bowl in a rough pattern. She
recognised the layout as that used in a high-end scrying spell, but
she'd never seen it done with soup before.
"So whenever we try to scry in to his location we get this bunch of fat
wankers watching the WWF? Fire, what the hell's going on?" Nabiki
complained.
Fire snorted.
"Two possibilities offhand; either he's wearing a Ring of Concealment or
he's somewhere masked by a transference spell. I doubt it's the ring;
there's only three of them known to exist and the spell to create more
was never brought from Homeworld. Nine gets you ten it's a transference
mask. I can't even get a location fix - it's shifting my co-ordinates
here. Shit, I need to tune this damn thing in properly. Does anyone have
a radio set and a small television screen I can take apart? I also need
three 15 carat hexagonal cut diamonds, some fine copper wire and a
proper toolkit." She tossed her belt pack of tools onto the table and
spread them out; a kit of watchmaker's screwdrivers, side cutters and
fine Allen keys, a small multimetre and a soldering iron.
"The only really precise scrying I know is technomantic."
"That's kinda unusual for a Joketsuzoku." Rally remarked. "I thought you
were all herbalist types."
Fire snorted. "My father is German and a technomancer of some ability.
He taught me everything I know about the craft."
"So," Nabiki asked. "What are you going to do?"
"I am going to make what Dad calls a tracker. My old one was on the
fritz at any rate, the focusing matrix got really worn when Kou Loun was
having me remotely track Shampoo during her hunt for Ranma. Being run
constantly for two weeks is not good for a tracker."
Nabiki scribbled a quick note of the parts Fire needed, handed said note
to one of the consulate dogsbodies and told him to jump to it.
***********************************
Ranma had to admit, Willow looked even worse than usual. The bags under
her eyes were so bad it looked like someone had slapped her in the face
with a nail bar, she'd cut the palms of her hands by digging her
fingernails into them, her eyes were puffy from crying nearly to the
point of having swollen shut and she had a certain amount of blood on
her lip; it looked like she'd rolled over and stuffed her face into the
cage during the night. The bruise on her chin was the result of Spike
knocking her out to shut her up when her crying had started getting on
his nerves.
"Fuckin' hell, what makes ya think she's gonna be any use ta us in this
state leechie-boy? She's sleepin' upstairs tonight."
"And how exactly do you intend to stop her making tracks, Saotome?"
Ranma turned back to Willow. "Okay, kid. Here's th' deal. Ya don't try
no shit, ya get ta sleep in a proper bed wivout that punk snorin' th'
other side o' th' room. Fuck about an' yer back in th' cage, that's if
Spike don't blow yer head off. I know yer a nice girl, ya ain't gonna
try no shit. Now ya just gotta prove it ta Mr. Sceptic there. Ya gettin'
me?"
Willow nodded miserably. "Yes."
Ranma sighed and rolled his eyes.
"I gotta go out th' shops, I'm runnin' outta smokes. Hey, Tendo - Herb -
anythin' ya two're wantin'?"
Soun frowned, counted his cigarettes and nodded.
"Couple of decks of Silk Cut and some lighter fuel, my Zippo's nearly
flat."
Herb shrugged. "The beer's nearly run out."
Spike glared at Ranma. "You're no way in hell using my T-Bird, I've seen
the way you drive."
"I've got a car." Willow offered.
Ranma nodded. "Right, yer comin' wiv me." He paused, cast about the room
for a bit, grabbed a sack, pulled it over her, slung the slightly
startled bundle of witch over one shoulder and slipped his invisibility
ring on.
***********************************
Willow slumped patiently in a jumble upside-down against Ranma's back as
he sprinted at insane speed through the streets; he was obviously
hurrying to her house. She only knew he was there when he heaved the
sack off and poured her out on her kitchen floor.
"Right, where's yer car?"
Willow straightened herself up and cast around the room a bit. "Oh
shit. Somone's taken my keys."
"Fuck."
"Don't worry." She felt around underneath the dining table, found the
spares that were stuck up under it and waved them at him.
"Great." He grabbed them off her and picked the two sacks he had been
carrying up. "Where's yer wheels?"
"This way."
***********************************
Ranma examined the vehicle.
"Well, this ain't exactly th' sorta vehicle I had ya figured as
drivin'."
Willow shrugged.
"I *am* rich, you know. My father was big in the oil industry, he left
all his money to Mom, and when she died I inherited it. Anyway, what's
wrong with driving a Hummer? It gets people out your way pretty good."
"Get in."
Ranma swung into the driver's seat; he waited for Willow to settle
herself then emptied the contents of the second sack into the passengers
footwell.
Willow blinked. Said contents consisted of a bunch of chain and
shackles. Ranma industriously fastened manacles round her wrists and
ankles, pulling the chains tight under the seat to the point she
couldn't move her arms and legs.
He grinned at her.
"I got ya figured as a smart kid, Willow. An' I spotted th' spare keys
ya got under th' dashboard. I ain't stupid, an' I need ya right now." He
chuckled. "I smelt a rat when ya offered ta lend me yer wheels. Ya
sounded way too keen on it."
Willow smiled sadly.
"You can't blame me for trying."
"Nah. I don't." Ranma fired the Hummer's engine. "But it ain't gonna
work. It's a war out there, Willow. An' right now we're on opposite
sides."
He didn't bother opening the garage door - instead he rammed it out the
way. Willow winced.
"Have you got any idea how much this thing cost me?"
"Yup."
***********************************
Brogan was bored. This was fairly unusual - being Clan Saotome's primary
mole in the police in Miami he had a lot of fun. But how fun can
watching a house get?
He stopped being bored as soon as the garage door exploded on the front
of a Hummer. Said 4x4 was being driven by a hairy young Asian man
wearing mirrorshades, a fucked up motorbike jacket and a maniac grin.
There was a teenage girl with red hair and a somewhat scared expression
in the passengers seat; he instantly recognised said girl.
She was the owner of the house he was watching. She was also supposed to
be missing presumed dead.
The Hummer did a handbrake turn onto the street and roared off. Brogan
put his foot on his police cruiser's throttle and went after the
puke-green truck.
***********************************
"Fuck, we picked up th' pigs already?" Ranma selected four wheel drive
and put his foot on the loud pedal. "Hey, this thing ain't bad!"
"Er, Ranma - how often have you driven?" Willow asked as the Hummer
mounted the pavement and nearly immolated six pedestrians and a
streetlight.
"Aw, a few times about ten years back. Why?"
Willow didn't ask anything more; she merely concentrated on being
terrified.
***********************************
Soun and Herb looked up from their game of chess as the door banged
open; it admitted a smirking Ranma with two crates of Newcastle Brown
under each arm and a gun bag over his shoulder, followed rapidly by a
shaking Willow with a carrier bag and an armload of manacles.
"You took a while." Soun remarked.
Ranma shrugged. "I hadta get th' car resprayed an' get a couple o' dings
taken outta th' bodywork. Nice set o' wheels."
Herb squinted at him. "You ain't turning into a car driver on us are you
Saotome?"
"Nope. Anyway, callin' it a car's a bit like callin' Ryoga's bike a
moped."
"Huh?"
"Would ya believe this kid drives a Hummer?"
Spike blinked repeatedly.
"You WHAT? I thought you drove a Chevvy?"
Willow shook her head.
"No. Buffy crashed my Hummer, the Chevrolet was a courtesy car." She
glared at Ranma. "That's the last time I get in a car with you."
"Ain't like ya gotten any choice. Anyway, what ya whinin' about? I only
drive like that when I gotta rush. An' havin' pigs after ya is as good a
reason as any ta rush. Well, here's yer smokes Tendo."
"Er, Ranma, exactly what have you been getting up to?"
"Well, th' pigs were watchin' her place - I snuck in usin' that
invisibility ring, but there ain't no invisibility ring I ever heard
about's gonna hide a Hummer, so I rammed it outta th' garage an' drove
off like a complete twat. Th' pig wiped his squad car an' I went ta that
respray shop Spike showed us last week. Ya were right Spike, they didn't
even ask about me havin' her chained ta th' passengers seat. So at any
rate I drove over ta a quiet shoppin' centre an' bought th' booze an'
fags. Oh, an' I dropped in on th' Mafia gun shop an' bought a load more
ammo fer th' Kalasher. An' I bought me a new gun."
"New gun?" Soun asked. "Do I want to know?"
"Nah, probably not. RPK."
Spike swallowed.
"You mean you went and bought a Russian light machine gun? Why?"
"Why not? Th' Reds always knew howta make nice guns." Ranma fished the
RPK out of it's bag; he grinned at it.
"Oh, by th' way Willow, ya ain't done fer th' day." He presented her
with Spike's camcorder. "Onea Spike's pals told me that bounty hunter
chick Rally Vincent's out lookin' fer me wiv a buncha her pals. Yer
gonna go an' film her. I got a weird feelin' about this bounty hunter's
pals.
"Why me?"
"Because they ain't lookin' fer ya. They're lookin' fer me. If ya ain't
back in two hours I'll have Spike blow yer head off. Here's th' keys,
now git goin'."
He tossed her the keys to the Hummer.
***********************************
"Hello Oz."
Mike Osbourn - Oz to his friends - spun round at the unexpected voice of
his girlfriend. "Willow! Where the hell have you been? I've been worried
sick! What the hell happened?"
Willow smiled sadly at the sruffy young werewolf; she meaningfully
tapped the explosive collar.
"Spike got me. I've only got an hour and a half before I have to be
back, and if I don't have a videotape of that bitch Vincent and the
bunch she's hanging out with I'm dead. Is Buffy okay?"
Oz shrugged.
"I don't know. I just don't know. Me and Giles and Anya haven't heard a
thing from her or Xander since the day before yesterday... we checked at
her place. Her mum hasn't heard anything, neither has Xander's mum...
Are you going to be okay?"
Willow shrugged helplessly.
"I don't know. I just don't know." She pressed a sheet of paper into his
hand. "Give this to Giles - it's where Spike's keeping me. Don't try to
rescue me, he's joined up with that Saotome guy and his two pals."
Oz went a bit paler than usual. "Shit..."
Willow nodded. "We're at war, Oz. And I'm a prisoner of the other side."
Oz nodded. "Yeah... Look, Vincent's been hanging around the Japanese
consulate building downtown for the last couple of days, with a bunch of
her buddies and a small group of heavily armed Asian weres. Are you sure
you'll be okay?"
"I can handle it. That's one thing... Spike kited me out with the best
mage's toolkit I've ever seen."
"Better than your mothers gear?"
"Yes... I have to go now."
***********************************
"So, Tendo - you said you wanted to talk to me in private. What's up? I
know Ken's a bit much, but-"
Nabiki butted in. "Nah, it's about the Andrayov girl."
"What about her?"
"Vincent, I read up on her background. Summers has been leading her on
for a couple of years now."
Rally nodded. "I know... there's more to it than that, isn't there?"
"Yeah." Nabiki shook her head. "I smelt a rat, so I checked the public
records."
"And...?"
"Her mother died about six months ago. Half the paperwork was missing,
but I managed to get hold of a copy of the autopsy. She was mauled to
death by some sort of big cat. I checked, and there wasn't any reported
escaped big cats... and when I spoke to that Brogan guy he showed me the
missing paperwork. The CIA took off with it like they do anything about
supernats. Willow Andrayov's mother was killed by a werecat, and they
found a damaged custom-made bomber jacket on the scene; a couple of
neighbours heard the racket and called the pigs, so whoever killed her
had to take off without cleaning up the site."
"So did they trace the jacket?"
"Yeah, but they couldn't do anything about it since Buffy Summers isn't
officially recognised as a part-time jaguar."
"You're telling me that bitch killed her own best friend's mother?"
"Yeah... it seemed a bit weird, so I scoped out May Andrayov. It turns
out she was the most highly respected witch in North America, if not the
entire western hemisphere. And guess who wanted her six foot under?
That's right, Majestic 12."
"So what you're saying is the 12 are hound-dogging Summers onto people?"
"They were. I don't care about the 12. I don't care about nationality.
Buffy Summers has erased her last supernat. I'm taking her back to Japan
when we go, and she's going to spend the rest of her natural life in
maximum security."
"You sure you can get away with that?"
Nabiki snorted.
"I'll give her a choice. Either I get Ranma to sic every Saotome in
North America onto a 24-7 hunt for her ass or she goes to jail. Her
choice."
"The 12'll probably pull her out."
"What are you talking about? I know the black ops mindset. She's a tool,
and she's outlived her usefulness. They'll already know we're onto her;
they'll cut her strings and leave her to fend for herself. Either that
or disappear her."
"There's another alternative. Leave her with an open offer of asylum
with Clan Saotome. After trying to survive without her MJ-12 backup
either she'll stop living or she'll go running to hide behind us."
Nabiki nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah... from what I hear she's pissed off
the S'Vek, bigtime. If she comes to us I'll put her on full-time MJ-12
busting duty. I dread to think how many other supernat kids worldwide
those bastards have set on their own people."
Rally shook her head. "From what I've found out about this so-called
'Slayer' business they've got a network of solos like Buffy Summers
nationwide, if not worldwide. And they recruit as many half-demons to
their 'hunter teams as they can... it's pretty sick. Get this - as soon
as one of their puppets smells a rat - " Rally made a throat-slitting
gesture. "Pop."
"Bastards."
"So what do we do about the Andrayov girl, Tendo?"
"If we ever find her? I intend to give her those files. I want that kid
on our side, not the 12's. The more I hear about her the more
professional she sounds."
Willow edged back over the parapet, switching Spike's camcorder off as
she went.
Mission accomplished... What the hell was going on?
Man it's late.
NOTES
Next - You can come out now, it's all over.
Laters,
Calum 'Doghead' Wallace.
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
Alternator - Higher tech version of a generator.
Artic - The UK term for a semi truck. Short for 'articulated lorry'.
Astro-Creep 2000 - The title of a White Zombie album.
Binned - crashed. Normally means written off. Derived from 'bin' as in
'rubbish bin' (the British term for a trash can)
Chain lube - Motorbike chain lubrication oil. Comes in a spray can and
looks a bit like snot.
Conrod (connecting rod) - The bit of metal that connects the piston to
the crankshaft. Shaped approximately like a flat dumbbell.
Engine clicking - An internal combustion engine heats up when run. Run
it hard and it heats up more, then when you switch off the engine will
start emitting a series of sharp clicks as the metal cools and
contracts.
Final drive - the drive chain that goes from the gearbox to the back
wheel and the cogs (final drive sprockets) that it runs on. Not to be
confused with the primary drive - the chain/sprocket or belt/pulleys
between the engine and gearbox.
Gasflowing - trimming off excess metal from inside the cylinder heads to
aid the burn rate of fuel within the engine. Gives a small horsepower
boost.
Gixer - Slang for a Suzuki GSXR (one of the craziest bikes they make).
Header tank - Tank that contains the spare water for the radiator on a
sealed cooling system as found in most cars and some high performance
bikes.
Honda CG125 - Small single - cylinder 4-stroke road bike. Not very much
of anything but supremely reliable and dirt cheap. It's reliability
stems from having very little to go wrong and a low - revving 4-stroke
engine.
Honda 250 Superdream - CB250. The next up the Honda model range from the
CG125 and just a bigger version of the same.
Honda 500 Superdream - CB500. A CB250 with a bigger bore and heavier
frame.
Honda Fireblade - Insane Honda sportsbike. Mad but beginning to show
it's age.
Kill switch - The engine's 'off' switch. Turns off power to the
ignition.
Kuso - As far as I know this is the Japanese translation of the word
'Shit'.
Lid / skidlid - Slang for a crash helmet.
Nitrous oxide - Laughing gas. A petrol - nitrous mix burns faster than a
petrol - air mix therefore produces more horsepower and more wear in the
engine.
Ratbike - A motorbike made to look as fucked up and unroadworthy as
possible while still being street legal. Normally painted flat black.
Steering damper - a long, thin shock absorber that fits between the
forks and the frame. Helps steady the steering. A steering damper is
essential for disabled bikers who have lost the use of one arm as
without it there's no way you'd be able to steer at low speed or pull
away one armed.
Stocker - unmodified factory-built vehicle; I think this comes from the
term 'sales stock'.
Supercharger - A pump driven off the crank that forces more air into the
engine thus forcing it to run faster.
Toby - An Inverness Collegeism; slang meaning something along the lines
of widget, gizmo or thingy. Derived from angling parlance (toby = a
small wooden fish used as a lure.) May be related to the epithet 'Toby
Tishbein' and can be said 'Tobyracho' for no apparent reason. (I'm not
making this up! Honest!)
Top yoke - The yokes are two pieces of metal that hold the front forks
together and to the bike. The top yoke is the upper one. Known as
triple clamps in the US.
JASDF - Japanese Air Self Defence Force. The Japanese air force.
JGSDF - Japanese Ground Self Defence Force. The ground forces arm of the
Japanese military.
JSDF - Japanese Self Defence Force. The collective Japanese armed
forces.
What likes - Slack Scottish grammar. Means something along the lines of
'please could you explain that'. Only considerably less posh.
Wheelie bin - a square green plastic trashcan about the size of a normal
bin, with a flip top and two wheels.